


Scheduled Appointment

by somethingnerdythiswaycomes



Series: Knee Injury Boyfriends [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Collars, Come Marking, D/s AU, Dom/sub, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Referenced Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation, Unsafe Sex, implied aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5614555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingnerdythiswaycomes/pseuds/somethingnerdythiswaycomes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was three months into summer and Shea hadn’t called him once.  Not that Steve was waiting for a call, or anything.  But Steve had gone for it before, asked Shea about marking and everything, and he wasn’t sticking his neck out again.  Not when Shea had turned into a fucking brick wall when he’d asked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scheduled Appointment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [maidoflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidoflight/gifts).



> Unsafe sex tag refers to a lack of condom use, but it's stated that both have been tested and are clean.
> 
> I do not represent the real people presented as characters in this fic, nor do I make any claims about what they do or do not do in their private lives.

It was three months into summer and Shea hadn’t called him once.  Not that Steve was waiting for a call, or anything.  But Steve had gone for it before, asked Shea about marking and everything, and he wasn’t sticking his neck out again.  Not when Shea had turned into a fucking brick wall when he’d asked.

Usually Shea would call, anyway.  He’d call or send a text, just a couple dates with a question mark, to see if Steve was available.  They’d train together, do a couple scenes, spend time lazing around and eating as much food as they could handle and drinking more beer than they should.

He could feel the tension sitting in his stomach, though.  It wouldn’t be long before Steve would _have_ to break and just call him.  As much as he tried to convince Shea otherwise, none of his usual playmates could do what Shea did for him.  It took him ages to figure out it was because he _felt_ things for Shea he didn’t for his other Doms.

July 5th, Steve’s phone buzzed on the bedside table.  He flopped over an arm, scrabbling past his clock and the base of his lamp to grab it.  It was a text.

_Jul 6-11?_

Steve goes to check flights.

 

.oOo.

 

“Jesus Christ,” Shea said when he opened the door.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“How long has it been since you went down?”

Steve snorted.  “Let me in.”

Shea stepped back from the door, letting Steve wheel his suitcase in.  Steve left it near the bottom of the stairs and turned back around.

“Seriously, how long has it been?” Shea asked, leading Steve into the kitchen.  “This is the worst I’ve seen you.”

“Gee, thanks.”  Steve sat at the island and let Shea put a plate of pasta and a glass of juice in front of him.  He picked up the fork.  “I’m feeling fine, actually.”

Shea shook his head, taking the fork from Steve’s hand and twirling it in a couple strands of spaghetti and holding it up to Steve’s mouth.  Steve met his eyes and, after a pause, opened his mouth.  Shea’s smile as he fed Steve that first bite was beautiful.

Steve flushed and looked down as Shea picked up more pasta and fed it to him again.

They’d never done feeding like this before, except for after their scenes.  Whenever they ate together, Steve fed himself.  Shea never even offered.

Steve had thought about it, of course.  You didn’t spend playtime and aftercare with a Dom, over and over for years, and not wonder what they’d be like outside of that, how they would take care of you.  How the efficient way Shea took Steve apart with his hands and his mouth and some leather straps would translate to a mid-afternoon kneeling session.

“Is it good?” Shea asked quietly.

Steve nodded, chewing slowly.

“You want some juice?”

Steve nodded again.  Shea held the glass to his lips, and Steve closed his eyes as he drank.  It was better than he imagined it would be.

 

.oOo.

 

Shea didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.  He’d planned on waiting a while before texting Steve, just to make sure everything from the season was out of both their systems.  Tensions ran high while there was still hockey being played, and for a few weeks after it abruptly ended.  This wasn’t the first time a fellow NHLer that Shea Dommed tried for something more, but it _was_ the first time Shea was considering going for it.

Before he could think it through, he was texting Steve.  Before he could back out, Steve was texting back his flight information.

And then he was feeding Steve, and he didn’t know what the fuck that was about.  He’d just wanted Steve to calm down, not look like he was on the edge of a panic attack the entire time.

And he’d missed how sweet Steve could be.  He could admit that to himself, at least.

But now Steve was looking so calm and sweet, sitting in the kitchen, when Shea just wanted him looking up at him like that from the floor.

“I’m gonna give you a bath,” Shea told him, feeding Steve the last bite of pasta.  “I got some nice new towels since the last time you were here.”

“Good.  The last ones were scratchy,” Steve murmured, eyes peeking open to glance up at him.  Shea grinned and shook his head; he’d missed Steve’s sass.

“These ones are extra soft,” Shea said, coaxing Steve off the stool and out of the kitchen.  “They’re not orange, though.  Sorry.”

Steve laughed.  “They’re no good then.  Only orange towels for me, Shea, you know that.”

“What did you call me?” Shea asked, leading Steve up the stairs.

“Sir,” Steve corrected dutifully as Shea brought him into the master bathroom.  It had the biggest tub, a nice, deep Jacuzzi one.  He’d already laid out the new towels, a dark blue, and put the shampoo and soap on the lip of the tub.

He turned on the tap, fiddling a bit to make sure it was the right temperature, before letting it fill the tub.  Once it was going, he turned back to Steve and grabbed the bottom of his t-shirt.  Steve raised his arms, letting Shea pull the shirt over his head, and then held his arms out so Steve could undo his belt and jeans and get those off, too.

“Lean on the counter,” Shea said, and knelt down to get Steve’s sneakers off.

“You’ve never done this for me before,” Steve said, lifting one foot and then the other.

Shea didn’t reply.  He didn’t really know why he was doing this, either.  But if he couldn’t figure out how to talk to Steve about being his Dom, and Steve being his sub, then he could at least take care of him.  Words would come once he’d figured out everything in his head; the need to take care of Steve outweighed everything else.

Shea looked up.  Steve had gained some weight back, bruises from the season faded away into nothing.  But he looked unsure.  His fingers were curled around the edge of the counter, his knuckles white, and he was hunched over in the way a secure, happy sub never was.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked, his eyes a little wide.

“I…” Shea started, and then stopped.  He didn’t know what to say.

“Sir,” Steve pleaded.  “ _Please_.”

Shea swallowed nervously.  “Steve… I’ve never done this before.”

“Done what?”

“Actually been, uh, someone’s Dom.”

Steve frowned.  “Sir—“

“Permanently.  Not just putting them down when we’re fucking around.  I mean—relationship stuff.  Contracts.  Kneeling and feeding and,” Shea swallowed again.  “Bathing.  Taking care of.  Setting rules and—”

“You think I have?” Steve asked quietly.

Shea looked up at him.  Steve was looking off to the side, but he’d straightened up, looking more like the sub Shea knew.

“I was freaked out,” Shea admitted.  “After—the last couple times.  I wanted it—you.”

Steve still wouldn’t look at him, but he reached out and put a hand on Shea’s head.  Shea stayed still, eyes on Steve’s face.

“I was freaked out too,” Steve said.  “I didn’t know what we were doing.  But I didn’t care, because I wanted you.”

Shea smiled, Steve’s words lighting him up from the inside.  He took Steve’s other hand, the one still holding the counter, and cradled it carefully.  He kissed the palm of his hand.  “I’m glad.”

Steve finally looked at him.  He smiled slightly, more than Shea was usually able to get out of him.

“Would you like to look at collars tomorrow?” Shea asked, careful to make it a completely open-ended question.  He didn’t want to accidentally force Steve into saying yes.

“Yes,” Steve replied, smiling wider.

Shea stood up, finally, his knee protesting a little at having spent so much time on the tile floor.  He kissed Steve quickly, and when he pulled back, Steve made a small noise of protest.  He knew that Steve was still floating in subspace, his thoughts a little clouded, and made a mental note to ask again, once Steve was clear-minded.  Just to be sure.

“Are you ready for the bath?” Shea asked, sliding an arm around his waist.

“As long as you’re getting in with me,” Steve said, pulling at Shea’s shirt.  Shea laughed, and let Steve pull his shirt off.  He did his jeans himself, as Steve watched, and once he was bare he was finally able to coax Steve into the tub.

Shea stepped in first, helping Steve to step over the lip after him, then sat down with Steve in the vee of his legs.  Steve immediately settled back against Shea’s chest, head tilted back on his shoulder.  Shea wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, holding him close as the water continued to rise around them.

Once it was an inch below the lip of the tub, Shea nudged Steve gently.  “Turn off the water.”

Steve mumbled something, but leaned forward and turned the faucet until the water stopped.  He settled back against Shea right away, tucking up against him again.  Shea kissed the side of his head gently, smiling when Steve let out a soft noise.  Shea’d had time to decode Steve’s grunts and murmurs and every little noise he made when he didn’t feel like speaking over the years they’d been playing, and he was glad now for that knowledge.

Steve turned his head so he could face Shea, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks flushed from the heat of the water.  “Sir.”

Shea kissed him gently, his hands sliding over Steve’s stomach.  Steve kissed back, his mouth opening under Shea’s, turning so he could kiss Shea easier.  Shea helped, hands on Steve’s hips to steady him as he kneeled over Shea’s lap.

“Sir,” Steve murmured, pulling back from the kiss.

“What do you want, babe?” Shea asked, his hand smoothing down Steve’s side.  Steve wrapped his arms around Shea’s shoulders.

“I want a lot of things,” Steve said, rubbing his cheek against Shea’s.

Shea grinned, and palmed Steve’s ass.  Steve groaned and shivered against Shea.

“What do you want?” Shea asked again.

Steve pushed back into his hands.  “I want… I just want you, Sir.”

Shea swallowed.  “You have me already.”

Steve smiled; it was tiny, but it was there.  “Show me, then.”

Shea kissed him, easing his lips over Steve’s.  Steve melted against him, opening up under his mouth.  It was different than it usually is between them.  Shea didn’t just feel like Steve needs him.  He felt like Steve _wanted_ him.

“‘m gonna fuck you right here,” Shea panted, pulling back just an inch so he could speak.  “And then I’ll spread you out, kiss all over you—”

“Please,” Steve moaned, pressing against Shea, chest to groin, as close as he could get.  Shea adjusted his grip, holding Steve close with one hand on his back and pressing the fingers of his free hand to Steve’s hole.

Shea didn’t like to admit it, but he kept lube with the bottles of shampoo and conditioner on the edge of the tub.  He needed it more when he was injured, that he’d be sitting in the tub and need _something_ to take the edge off.  He’d think about Steve, more often than not.

He grabbed the lube and squirted some onto his fingers, then pressed them back against Steve’s hole.  The warm water was lapping at his wrist, and against Steve’s thighs, too, as he slid a finger inside him.  Steve collapsed against Shea’s chest, moaning softly against his skin.  It made it a little easier for Shea to press his finger in deeper, feel Steve’s hole sucking him in.

Neither of them could wait.  As soon as Steve started begging, Shea thrust his second finger in.  Steve jolted against him, pressing tight to Shea and rocking back against his fingers.

It was different than the last couple of times, with both of them having the full range of movement.  Shea liked that Steve could let go, move against him and press close, without having to be mindful of one of their injuries.

“Sir,” Steve groaned, lips brushing Shea’s collarbone.  “More.”

“Are you demanding or begging?” Shea asked, pumping his two fingers in and out.

“Begging,” Steve panted, rocking back on Shea’s hand.

“I didn’t hear a please.”

“ _Please_ , Sir, I need it!”

“I know you do,” Shea assured him, and added a third finger.  Steve moaned gratefully, eyes fluttering closed.  Shea could relate.  It’d been too long since he had Steve like this for him.  Steve wasn’t a man that gave up his control easily; he wouldn’t submit for just anyone, and even if he would submit, it didn’t mean he’d go down without any trouble.

“You ready?” Shea asked, spreading his fingers inside Steve.  He knew how long it took to open Steve up, how easily Shea could get his fingers and his cock in him, how Steve liked that little bit of a burn.  But he needed to be sure, still.  He couldn’t hurt Steve.

“Please,” Steve groaned.  Shea pulled out his fingers and fisted his cock, spreading lube over it.  He held it at the base and used his other hand on Steve’s hip to guide him back onto it.

Steve moaned, his back arching as he sat back on Shea’s cock.  Shea could sympathize.  It felt _amazing_ being inside Steve, especially knowing that Steve was his now.  No matter who else Steve had played with, who he might still play with, Steve was _his_.

“Feels so good,” Steve moaned, rocking down on his cock.  Shea nodded, panting against Steve’s neck.  It was really all he could do to hold onto his control, not come into Steve right this second.

“Kiss me,” Shea managed.  Steve ducked his head and kissed Shea desperately, fingers digging into Shea’s shoulders for leverage as he rode him harder.  Shea slipped his tongue into Steve’s mouth, fisting the hair at the back of his head and holding Steve exactly where he wanted him.

Steve clenched down around him at the first touch of Shea’s hand to his cock.

“Sir, I can’t,” Steve panted, breaking the kiss.  He couldn’t move away; his lips brushed Shea’s with every word.  “I’m gonna come, I can’t—”

“Come,” Shea growled, thrusting up harder.  “Steve, come.”

Steve arched against him and bucked uncontrollably onto Shea’s cock, coming in between them.  He tightened down on Shea, making him groan and come, too. Shea thrust up, a deep groan tearing out of his throat.

When Steve moaned softly, Shea realized they hadn’t used a condom.  It was fine, though – regular testing was part of their contract.  They’d never dispensed with them before; maybe it was Shea trying to hold onto some sort of detachment.

But Steve was fucking _his_ , and he’d marked him to prove it.

Steve’s breath puffed over Shea’s neck, warm and wet.  Shea wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.  His cock slipped out as it softened, making Steve shiver.

Shea was the first one to really move.  It wasn’t a surprise.  He fumbled for a washcloth and dipped it in the water, using it to wipe Steve’s stomach and ass off.

“Gonna lay you out on my bed,” Shea promised, dropping the washcloth into the water.

“Mmmm,” Steve hummed, nuzzling Shea’s neck.

It took some maneuvering to get both of them standing and out of the bathroom, but when Shea was able to drop Steve on the bed and spread him out, it was worth it.  Those were Shea’s pillows under his head, his comforter that Steve was lying on top of.

Shea climbed over him and started at Steve’s lips, kissing him gently.

“Gonna kiss me all over?” Steve asked muzzily.

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Shea replied, kissing his check, his chin, down his neck.

Steve just sighed contentedly, closing his eyes.

Shea smiled against Steve’s skin and set about leaving his mark.

 

.oOo.

 

The next morning, after Shea cooked breakfast, they went out to shop for a collar.  Shea hadn’t really allowed himself to even glance at the catalogs and websites and stores full of collars before.  Steve admitted that he hadn’t, either, so sure that Shea wouldn’t want him.

So they took their time.  They didn’t look online first – they just went for it, walk into the store hand-in-hand.

“Did you give any thought to color?” The salesperson asked, fixing his glasses.

Shea looked over at Steve.  When he’d allowed himself to picture it…

“Black, I think,” Shea said.  Steve glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.  “It’d look nice.”

Steve flushed, but nodded.  “If you say so.”

“I do,” Shea replied.  He turned back to the salesperson, who had a smile on his lips.  “And we want rings, but they can’t be exposed enough that they can be grabbed easily.  And a durable buckle.”

Shea knew what Steve liked.  He liked behind tied down, held, and Shea had _plans_ for the attachment points in his room and the rings on that collar.

“I’d suggest a double-layered leather,” the salesperson started, taking one out of a case and laying it on the counter.  There was a wide band of leather, with a thinner band on top of it, D-rings spaced around the circumference.  “It’s a newer design – the outer band has loops it goes through on the inner band, and can be reversed.  The D-rings lie almost completely flat, and they can either face out, or be entirely hidden.”

Shea picked up the collar, sliding it partway out of the loops.  It was a soft, supple leather, made with solid craftsmanship.  It wouldn’t break apart if someone tugged on it, or if Shea used it as an attachment point.

“Do you like it?” Shea asked Steve, holding it out to him.

“Yes, Sir,” Steve said, oddly hushed.  When Shea looked at him, he was blushing, his eyes glazed.

“We’ll take it,” Shea said to the salesperson.

He grinned and checked a tag on the box.  “That should be the right size.  It’s a new collar, just put out yesterday and not looked at before now.  You’re welcome to that one, if it fits.”

Shea unbuckled it and placed it around Steve’s neck, smoothing the layers of leather before buckling it at the side of his neck.  Steve beamed at him, hand coming up to gently touch the collar.

“Perfect fit,” the salesperson said.  “If you want to order a tag, I can handle that as well.”

“Perfect,” Shea murmured, hooking a finger in one of the D-rings and reeling Steve in for a kiss.

Steve went easily.

**Author's Note:**

> I FINALLY FINISHED THIS PART HOLY SHIT it only took me a couple weeks lol
> 
> Join me in sin on tumblr @ somethingnerdythiswaycomes.tumblr.com


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